


How I Met Your Marauder

by burlonberrydon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Marauders Era (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-02 01:31:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17878526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burlonberrydon/pseuds/burlonberrydon
Summary: This is my take on how the Marauders first Marauded. I'm hoping to write from when they first got their letters to the Battle of Hogwarts. The rating will probably go up as they get older, as this will be a very slow-burning Wolfstar fic.





	How I Met Your Marauder

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I'm trying to keep this as canon as possible, but I admit that I have not read every Pottermore article and post-publication tweet from J.K. Rowling as obsessively as I have read the books. Feel free to point out when I diverge from canon and if it's out of character, or a date doesn't match up, I'll fix it!

James came bouncing down the hall. Euphemia looked at Fleamont with a huge grin on her face. Only their son could make one pair of running feet sound like a herd of stampeding elephants. Fleamont was smiling too and raised his eyebrows as he calmly took a sip of tea. He slid the letter out of sight between the milk carafe and the bowl of fruit.

The stairs being in his way, James simply hopped on the balustrade and slid down, whooping. He careened into the kitchen, sliding on his stockinged feet right into the cupboards and falling flat on his face. Euphemia rose from her chair but James hopped back up, grinning madly and straightening his glasses.

"Was that it?" he yelled at his dad. He wasn't trying to yell. James lost volume control at times of great excitement. 

"Was what what, son?" asked Fleamont, affecting an air of great boredom as he flicked through a pile of boring-looking bills.

James was now literally jumping up and down. Euphemia had to look away, covering her mouth as she did so or the jig would be up.

"The letter! Was that The Letter?!" James grabbed the sheaf of bills from his father and flicked through them, his dark brown eyes zooming across return addresses.

"Oh," he said, and sat on the stool next to his father, head hanging.

Euphemia gave her husband a pleading look. It had gone on long enough.

Fleamont laughed and slid the letter across the counter to his eleven year old son. When he saw the writing on the envelop with the Hogwarts crest in the corner he let out another loud whoop and ripped the letter open.

"September 1st!" he yelled as he did a peculiar little victory dance that seemed to require eyes to be closed and hips to waggle. Euphemia and Fleamont laughed and hugged their son.

***

"Young Master Black's presence is requested in the drawing room."

Sirius looked up from his book. It was a ponderous tome on the great and distinguished lineage of one of his boring, yet apparently fecund, ancestors. His tutor had given it to him and expected him to memorize the genealogy up to the 10th generation by Monday, the great prat.

"Thank you, Kreacher. That will be all."

Kreacher bowed so low his nose touched the floor. "By your leave," he said, and backed away instead of turning his back on a Black, just as his mother had taught all their house elves to do.

Sirius sat staring out the window of his bedroom as long as he dared. He loved watching the bustle of London. Muggles wore all sorts of bright clothes and their hair was long and wild. He quite liked the trousers he'd been seeing, with their flared legs. He had a secret ambition to own a pair, though purchasing a pair of jeans would probably get him disinherited. Finally, not wanting one of his parents to come up to his sanctuary themselves, he turned from the window and went to the drawing room, his mother's domain.

He knocked once and entered the room, back straight, face a perfect blank. He lifted his eyebrows a bit, knowing this particular disdainful expression always put his mother's back up.

"Sirius," she said, actually sounding warm for once. He looked at her sharply, all pretense of boredom forgotten. Why did his mother sound happy with him? He cast his mind back for whatever he'd done recently but could only come up with the latest mischief he'd done to his tutor. Since his mother didn't find barnyard noises funny in the slightest, he didn't think she'd be proud now of the spell he'd put on his tutor's shoes. She gestured for him to sit in the chair opposite her.

He did so, sitting on the edge of the seat so his feet would touch the floor. He looked once out the window, only able to see the sunshine pouring in from this part of the house, then looked back at his mother, his face blank again.

"Mother. Are you well?" He looked down at his clasped hands.

"Eyes up, Sirius. Remember - eye contact. It's what separates us from the beasts." 

This wasn't true, according to his tutor. Also according to his tutor, eye contact was used by some beasts as a sign of aggression. This had reminded him immediately of his mother.

"I have a letter for you, darling," she said and indeed she did. 

The letter was addressed to Sirius Black, 12 Grimmauld Place, London, the biggest room in the house.

He frowned. So what if he had the biggest room in the house? He was the heir. And his mother preferred the west side, as the sun was not so bright there in the mornings.

Sirius reached into his pocket and opened the letter with his knife. 

Dear Mr. Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

 

Sirius looked up at his mother. She was smiling quite fondly at him. He looked back down at the letter before she could see what he was thinking.

So. Hogwarts. He barely took in the words and continued to stare at the page. 

Hogwarts, where he would be sorted into Slytherin. Slytherin, where he would learn even more about his lineage, the nobility of a pureblood line, the imperative of the only decent wizards to uphold the family honor and of course - continue it. From Slytherin he could expect a job anywhere. His mother wouldn't like him to do anything too crass, it would have to be a job at the Ministry or perhaps a high-ranking official for Gringotts like his Uncle Alphard. Then marriage, a few brats, the inheritance of this old dump. Yes, childhood was fast ending and soon the stiff, boring world of grown-ups would descend upon him.

"Thank you, Mother," he said, rising from his chair. She looked surprised. "I suppose we'll be going to Diagon Alley soon for supplies. Send Kreacher for me when you're ready." He bowed slightly, one hand behind his back, and left the room. 

He trudged up the stairs to his bedroom, closing the door and flinging himself back into his armchair. Sirius stared out the window until the world grew dark and the streetlights were lit. Hogwarts, Slytherin, career, family. Was there any way to avoid it all?

***

Peter sat at the table and pulled the bowl of cornflakes closer to the edge. He knocked the milk jug over.

His mother shrieked and jumped up. "Peter! How many times does this need to happen before you'll pay attention?"

She waved her wand and disappeared the milk, but her face was still pinched in a disapproving and annoyed expression.

Peter hung his head. "Sorry, Mum."

Peter's mother sighed heavily and hung her head so that her mousy-blonde bangs obscured her face. When she looked up her face was worn, but Peter had a suspicion it had been worn down long before he was born. Perhaps she was born that way.

"It's all right darling. There's a special piece of post today, that's all. Have a look."

Peter looked at the toaster. He thought his mother had said, "special piece of toast." There was nothing in or around the toaster that looked particularly exciting. Just the usual crumbs and butter and jam smears that neither he nor his mother ever seemed to be able to keep off the counters.

"No darling. Post. Here." 

She practically chucked the thick parchment envelop in his face. It fell on his lap.

He picked it up. The Hogwarts crest!

"Wow!" He struggled to open it, reached for his butter knife and sliced right through it. 

"Hogwarts! Can we go shopping today, Mum?"

She sighed and looked at the pile of post still on the kitchen table. "I'll need to balance our banking account, but if not today, certainly by this weekend."

"Thanks, Mum!" Peter jumped up and gave her a hug. "Sorry again, about the milk."

"No darling, I'm sorry I was so short with you. I'm as excited about Hogwarts as you are." When she finally lifted her eyes to his, he suddenly wondered if she was just excited to be rid of him.

He stepped back.

"Do you think the other children will like me?" he asked the tops of his shoes. When he was done speaking he looked up quickly, to read her face before she turned it away. She never looked at him when she was speaking. Peter didn't think she knew this about herself.

She looked away, across the small, cluttered kitchen.

"I'm sure they will, darling. Who wouldn't?" 

Peter walked away, still clutching his letter, to his room. When he shut the door, he thought he had a pretty good idea who didn't like him. But at least she wouldn't be at Hogwarts. Hogwarts! He wondered what house he would be in. He hoped it wouldn't be Hufflepuff. His mother had been in Ravenclaw. That didn't sound like too bad a house, but if his current attempts at schooling were anything to go by he was no brainbox.

If it were his choice, it would be either Gryffindor or Slytherin. But which would he choose?

***

Remus was reading in his room. He was reading Endymion. His mother had told him it wasn't for children, but it made for some good reading. Father was supposed to be home that afternoon and they would work on maths then. Remus was hopeless at maths, but Father made it fun. Hope was certain Remus had inherited his blind spot for maths from her and wouldn't go near the subject.

There was a knock on his door.

"Come in."

Mother's head poked round the door. "Remus, you have a guest, dear."

He looked up at her. She was rather pink in the cheeks, like this was an embarrassing secret, Remus having a guest. Certainly it was unheard of. He marked his place in his book and followed his mother out to the sitting room. 

An older man in full wizarding robes was sitting on their worn out sofa, in their worn out sitting room as though this were the most normal thing in the world. Since they were currently in Muggle Killarney, this was decidedly unnormal, but Remus, remembering his manners after Mother cleared her throat, said, "Welcome. May I take your..." but here he trailed off, because the visitor's hat was a truly splendid pointed, star-spangled thing that would look quite ridiculous on their hat rack. And the visitor was likewise not wearing a coat, like most of their visitors, and Remus wasn't sure wizards usually wore much under their robes. "Can I get you anything to drink?" he amended.

The visitor chuckled. He had the most extraordinarily blue eyes, that flashed over the half-moon spectacles at him. Remus decided he liked this man, even if he was a snazzier dresser than anyone previously in his acquaintance.

Instead of answering his question, the visitor said, "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Oh. Hello. Pleased to meet you," said Remus. He tried to smile, but didn't feel up for it. There was an empty feeling in his chest whenever the subject of Hogwarts came up. He knew Father had had a thrilling time as a student at the famous school and that most wizard children went. But Father had told him and Mother many years ago that Remus wouldn't be allowed. Father had written to the Headmaster repeatedly, even appealing to the school governors, but the answer was always a resounding no. 

"I'll make tea," said Mother, who was, for some reason, smiling broadly. She retreated to the kitchen.

"I couldn't help but notice you have an excellent set of Gobstones," said Headmaster Dumbledore, indicating the unfinished game before the fire, that Remus had been playing against himself last night.

Remus finally smiled and it felt perfectly natural. "Do you fancy a game? I could set it up properly."

"Then set it up. It's been ages since I've played Gobstones."

Remus couldn't imagine a Headmaster playing Gobstones, but was keen to see it for himself. He set up the marbles and Dumbledore wasted no time settling himself on the floor, looking for all the world like a bearded, bespectacled child.

Remus and the headmaster were so intent on their game, they didn't even realize Hope had reentered the room until she said, "Tea, anyone?" 

Remus looked up at his mother and the headmaster took full advantage of his distraction, winning enough marbles to take the game.

"Mum!" Remus groaned. "You distracted me!"

Mother and the headmaster laughed together.

Just then Father burst through the door.

"Ah, Dumbledore, you're already here, perfect. Remus, what are you doing on the floor? Could you put that game away, son?"

The headmaster had somehow got himself seated respectably on the sofa again, holding his tea, leaving Remus alone in front of the fireplace. 

Remus dutifully gathered the marbles back up in a leather bag and hung the bag on a hook next to the fireplace. He sat in an armchair and draped one leg over the corner, so Headmaster Dumbledore wouldn't see the stuffing that leaked out of it at the slightest pressure.

The grown-ups had some grown-up chat while Remus tried manfully not to look too bored. He was just beginning to think up excuses to go to his room when Headmaster Dumbledore said, "How would you like to go to Hogwarts, Remus?"

Remus's head whipped up so fast his neck cricked. He rubbed his neck while he looked at his parents, searching their faces. Was it possible?

"Is that possible?" he asked.

"There will be some precautions, but yes. If you want to go, of course."

Remus jumped out of the chair. "Yes! I do want to go! Can I Mother? Father?" 

Lyall and Hope Lupin jumped out of their chairs and ran to Remus, hugging him close. In the ensuing chaos and jubilation, Dumbledore left unseen.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment! Love the lovely comments!


End file.
